Fields of Memory
by Sheryl Nantus
Summary: Mulder ponders his life after TFWID.


All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part... go ahead, take me to court...I'm using the insanity defence... heh, heh, heh...The character of Jackie St. George belongs to me though... 

Comments, complaints and just plain talk to sheryl_martin@tvo.org 

Author's note: This is my take on the great "Fields" discussion - if you haven't seen it yet, you might want to take a pass on it...Truth be told, I haven't seen the show yet, but I know pretty well what's happening... so apologies if it's a bit loose in parts... like that's something new...but I'm keeping the faith...as you'll see... 

Summary: Mulder ponders his life after "TFWID".Rating: G, V... 

Fields of Memoryby Sheryl Martin 

Fox Mulder shifted uneasily on the park bench, letting the wind whip the leaves around his feet. He hoped she would come; thought that the message he left was enough. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see a woman approaching. She had decided to take him up on it. 

"So..." Jackie St. George slumped onto the wooden slats, stifling a yawn. "I just flew back in from Seattle - don't mind me." 

"Work?" He smiled. She smiled back. 

"None of your business. Well, maybe." Arranging her coat on her lap, she looked at him seriously. "I talked to Dana last night." 

"Oh." 

"She told me what you two were up to lately." 

"Oh." 

"And she hoped you'd call me - or I'd call you or something along those lines; since you're not talking much to her." 

"Oh." 

"You must have gone to Oxford - I can hear the accent in your voice." 

He chuckled, ducking away from her intent gaze. When he brought it back to bear on her, she flinched inwardly at the pain it showed her. 

"You... you've had this. You know about this." 

The Canadian nodded. "Yep. You know that." 

"How..." Mulder licked his lips, searching for the words. "Tell me how you died, once." 

She jerked back from him instinctively, and for a second all he could see was the Rage in her eyes. Suddenly he realised the intimacy of what he was asking her, and was embarrassed for them both. 

A minute later she relaxed, still staring down at the ground. "Sometimes you still surprise me, Mulder." 

"I'm sorry." A deep sigh dragged itself out of his chest. "I just..." 

She looked away from him. "It was an ambush. We had just decided to ford a river to get to the castle faster; before nightfall." 

"You had enemies then." 

"Of course. People were afraid back then too." Her eyes stayed on the well-packed ground under them. "We were just at the centre when the archers shot from the forest on the other side. We were relatively safe; we had kept our armour on for the crossing just in case." 

He nodded, watching her intently. 

"But they shot the horse under me. And he rolled..." Her right hand went up to her left shoulder, scratching hard. "I couldn't get to the buckles; couldn't get to the release..." A sharp intake of breath. "The water was running too fast and the horse was pulling me under with the dead weight. I didn't have a chance." 

"So you drowned." He muttered. Sharply jerking her head to one side, she stared at him. 

"So I died. There and a thousand other times that I don't know if they're just my imagination or reality." 

Mulder frowned. "But..." He stopped. "I think it was real. I felt it." 

Reaching over, she pinched his leg. "You feel that too. So it's real for you. But it's not for Scully; because she didn't see it. Or feel it." 

Mulder shook his head. "I just don't know what to do. If she was my... my soulmate then she's dead." 

St. George nodded. "So you have a choice. A few, in fact. Either you date your right hand for the rest of your life or move on." 

Mulder laughed, the first real one he'd had in days. "God, you're funny at times." 

"Hey, I'm Canadian. You have to be." She smiled at him. "Mulder, you're in this time, this reality. What you do and who you associate with here is up to you to a certain degree. Fate can only do so much; but you make the final decision. You decide who to love, or who not to love; who to hate or who not to hate. It's in your hands." 

His laugh caught in his throat. "But if she was..." 

"And maybe she wasn't." St. George shrugged. "Mulder, we all revolve around each other; circles within circles. She wasn't exactly rushing to find you in this life; maybe you've grown past her. Outgrown her and it's time for you to find someone new." 

"I was with you in a past life." He stated. She nodded. "Were we..." His hands juggled in the air. 

She laughed, tossing her ponytail back over one shoulder. "I don't know, Mulder - and to tell you the truth, I'd like to think I moved past you a lot faster than you're moving past her." 

"I guess I'm still trying to figure out what I'm here for this time. What I'm here to learn." He admitted, his hands now deep in his pockets. "I know you're here in this lifetime to work on love, but I need to know what I'm here to work on." 

St. George paused, then wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and drew him close; putting her lips to his ear in a conspiratorial whisper. And he could have sworn he felt a tear drop from her cheek onto his skin. 

"The same thing, Fox Mulder. The same thing." 

And she disappeared down the path, kicking aside a pile of multi-coloured leaves with childish joy as he sat on the bench. 

And smiled. 

******************** 


End file.
